Chuck Gets His Old Life Back
by Doc in Oz
Summary: What if getting his old life back meant he would lose her. What if he didn't get a choice and he got his old life back anyway. Set second half Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

As of 31 May 2012, I don't own Chuck, et al.

**Summary:** What if getting his old life back meant he would lose her. What if he didn't get a choice and he got his old life back anyway. Set second half Season 2.

-o0o-

**Chuck Gets His Old Life Back**

**Chapter One**

-o0o-

The thin scary woman, who made Chuck think of someone who could play an evil goblin queen, extremely well, confirmed Chuck's suggestion with more than a hint of amusement.

"Stick, _this_ needle," the light(s) glinted off the pointy bid menacingly, "into your eye."

"Chuck! No!" cried Sarah from the side, still cuffed to the sprinkler system.

That was when Chuck made his move. Or tried to. He was supposed to scare himself so much, that he'd faint.

Except that wasn't happening. He leant back in the wooden chair as far as possible to get away from the scary pointy glinty thing headed straight for his right eye. Further, he needed to lean further…..

The chair tilted back, giving him some six inches more.

Scaring himself wasn't working. The needle kept getting closer. Okay, so scaring was happening, the fainting was the problem.

Chuck leant further still, and then the chair toppled backwards, taking the Intersect host with it.

It seemed unreasonable that fainting would hurt so much.

-o0o-

"Chuck!"

Why was Sarah calling his name from underwater?

When he opened his eyes, it was like a special effects show, just for him. Were special effects supposed to hurt this much?

"Chuck, come on. Wake up!"

Her face was streaked with grime, blood and something wet had stained her cheeks. Her hair was no longer neatly tied back into her mission pony tail, and was looking frazzled.

There was the coolest tunnel vision effect, with Sarah's face in prime position. And there were like two or three of her, each swimming in and out of focus…

Except, the strobe lights really hurt. Maybe she could turn them off….

Someone else spoke from underwater, "He hit his head pretty hard."

There was movement, but no sloshing. Where was the water?

Someone roughly peeled his eyelids back. The light hurt. Didn't they know that was why he'd closed them in the first place?

There was a man looking into his eyes, first one then the other. The British guy, Cole Something. Seriously, who names a kid 'Cole?' At least his last name wasn't Slaw. Was it?

"His eyes are dilated differently. I'd guess concussion. Do you have a secure medical we can use?" Cole Slaw guy warbled from underwater.

"Concussion? Shit!" burbled a familiar male voice. Casey. The cavalry had evidently turned up just in time. Excellent, now get them to stop the horses from stomping around on my head, Chuck thought. Wasn't there supposed to be some joke about playing polo with water horses?

"Chuck? You're gonna be fine, okay?" he felt her fingers move down his face, "We're going to move you, and you'll be fine, you're going to be _fine_," her voice got higher as she spoke. She sounded worried. Maybe she was worried about Cole Slaw guy, 'cause he looked pretty beat up.

Maybe he should try to remember Cole Slaw guy's real name, 'cause Sarah seemed to like him….. If he was good for Sarah, then that was…..

It was nice and quiet when the darkness returned.

-o0o-

His head was resting on someone's lap, and there was movement, familiar from childhood road trips. Car. He was in the backseat of a car, he realized. Sarah's voice came from overhead, "Casey, can't this thing go any faster?"

She sounded scared. Maybe evil goblin queen was chasing them.

It took a bit of effort and a couple of goes, but he found her hand, holding onto his chest. He held her hand, and she held his back very tightly.

She must be really scared about evil goblin queen chasing them.

By the time he remembered how to speak, it had turned dark again. Chuck rested, knowing that Sarah was there.

-o0o-

There was a lot of noise, and it felt like they'd put him on the shopping trolley with the wonky wheel.

Everyone was talking all at once, over the top of each other. If only they'd be a little quieter, it would be white noise, and he could ignore it.

Crash!

Seriously, couldn't they have opened the door first? That hurt.

OW!

Who let a wasp in? That stings!

Cold. It's getting cold…

-o0o-

The doctors and nurses were confused. The three cops and their prisoner had barged in, and taken over whole departments and wards. The girl cop and the Limey looked like they needed medical attention, but the girl cop was a lot scarier than the third, large scary looking (just standard scary looking after seeing what the girl cop could do) cop, and wouldn't let anyone look after her until the prisoner was looked after first.

And their prisoner looked like he was just a normal guy.

When the prisoner, Carm-Something, was taken for X-rays and MRI, Walker, the female cop, refused medical attention until after the scans were done. She was like a frantic lover rather than a cop.

Cop Face, the big guy, looked after the prisoner while Walker and the James Bond wannabe had their cuts and abrasions looked after.

-o0o-

Barker accompanied Walker as they both limped back to Bartowski's room. Casey was on the phone to Washington.

Cole Barker knew when he was a third wheel, this was definitely one of those rare times.

Walker had been fun, she flirted well, very well, and was diverting enough. And then the dork went and hurt himself, and everything changed. Who'd have thunk it, Cole Barker looses the girl to the dweeb.

"….unknown ma-am. He's in a medically induced coma."

The voice on the phone spoke for a bit, then Casey replied, "Will do, ma-am. I've been told there is a slight swelling, which is why they put him in a coma. We'll know more once he regains consciousness."

As soon as Casey had said 'swelling,' Walker began to move toward the body hooked up to tubes, hoses and various machines that went ping. After a pace or two, she stopped and just looked at the figure of the dorky Bartowski.

The tinny voice continued on the phone. Casey replied, "Yes ma-am. As soon as we can," and hung up, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

Casey looked at the pair of them for a moment, and then said, "Walker, he should be alright. The doctors say it's a mild concussion, nothing to be alarmed about. This is all just procedure."

"Casey, you said swelling. There's swelling in _his brain?_"

"Walk… Sarah, the doctors say he'll be fine. Yes, there is pressure, but that is normal, considering. They know what they're doing. Go… take the beefcake," Casey gestured to Barker, "here, back to Castle. Clean up, get some rest. I've got him."

Walker opened her mouth, but Casey cut her off, "Sarah, you're just about dead on your feet. Get some rest, you're no good to… anyone, like this.

Walker's shoulders slumped in acceptance, and she turned for the door. Then she turned back, "How long?"

"Hmm?"

"How long will he be in a coma?" she asked, gazing at the man in the bed.

"Forty eight hours, the doc said. Said that was standard, just to be safe."

She whipped around to face Casey, "Forty….? We'll need to come up with a cover for Ellie!"

"Get some sleep. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

"….John, what if…. What if this affects the Inter… you know?"

"He'll probably be fine."

"But…."

Casey guided her gently back towards the door, saying quietly, "Then he'll get his wish, and be free of us. Free of the spy life."

Sarah Walker did not look happy that the man she obviously cared deeply for might get his wish. Barker wanted to ask who this 'Ellie' was, and why it so important she be informed. This didn't feel like the right time to ask.

When Barker and Walker got back into Castle, they found a cot each in the cells, and tried to sleep. Training and survival had made Barker a light sleeper. Darwinian selection tended to weed out the heavy sleepers of the spy world. Walker's restless night kept Barker awake.

At four in the morning, she gave up pretending to sleep as a bad job, and got up to start working on a computer in main ops.

-o0o-

At first blush, Sarah looked fresh as a daisy. Had Chuck have been awake, he would have spotted it immediately. It took her partner, Casey, a little longer to spot she'd barely had any sleep.

"Rough night, huh?"

She bit back her initial reply, and said, "Okay, I've got transfer papers to move Carmichael from General, and into Westside. And then when he gets to Ellie's hospital, Chuck Bartowski has the correct records for admission."

Casey flicked through the paperwork in the folder, "That looks pretty good." He then looked up, and asked her, "Wadaya gonna tell Ellie?"

She sighed, "I thought I could say he fell while we were at the pier…."

"…and the reason you forgot to tell momma bear Bartowski was be-cau-se…?" he asked in a sing-song tone she recognized from one of Chuck's cartoons.

She turned to face him with a painful grimace, "I don't know…"

"It was late, and you didn't want to wake her…." he offered, before considering, "Nah, she'd never buy that. Keep it simple, tell her you lost the phone during the ruckus, and you only got it back when the EMS crew returned it to you?"

She nodded, not really paying attention.

"What'd you do with the hot syrupy stack of man cakes?" Casey asked, testing to see if she was listening.

"I left him back in Cas….. _what_ did you just say?"

Casey grinned, "Just checking. I'll go start the transfer to Westside," he held up Sarah's transfer papers, "You call Ellie."

She nodded again, still distracted.

Casey paused at the door and said quietly, "Sarah, he's going to be alright."

She nodded once more, not saying anything.

Casey left the room to deal with the transfer.

Sarah stood looking at Chuck for a long time before she rang his sister. The phone call went as well as calls of this nature ever go.

-o0o-

Ellie was waiting as the ambulance pulled up. It was unethical for her to medically attend her brother, so Big Sister mode was fully engaged.

Once Chuck was in his new room, plugged in, and pinging, she looked at her brother's girlfriend.

"Oh, God! Sarah, have you had any sleep?"

Sarah shook her head, looking at the floor.

The next thing Sarah knew was Ellie had organized a spare bed to be wheeled into the room, and she was placed on the bed by a very determined Ellie, who commanded her to, "Sleep!"

As Sarah drifted off, Ellie's voice softened by fatigue toxins spoke seemingly from a great distance, "Chuck, you'll be fine. Sarah and I are here. You look after that girl, Chuck…..."

Sarah woke with a start. Chuck was hurt! She shouldn't be sleeping when….

Sarah saw Ellie sitting by Chuck's bed. Ellie looked surprised at Sarah's sitting bolt upright. "Sarah, you startled me," said Ellie.

"How long was I asleep?" asked Sarah.

"Bit over an hour. Feel better?"

"Some," she nodded, "thanks. How's he…. Any change?" she asked as she started getting up.

"Still the same. I peeked at his files, it all looks pretty standard. They'll check the swelling later today, but from what I saw, that shouldn't be a problem. All goes well, they stop the drip tomorrow, and he'll be back, annoying as ever," Ellie smiled reassuringly at Sarah, and then asked gently, "How'd it happen?"

"It was just so silly," Sarah made a grimace of pain at the real memory, "He just…. fell over backwards. Hit his head, and … that was it."

"You must have been terrified, Sarah."

She nodded, "El, I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, my phone got los….."

"He had you, the whole time, right? I'm pretty sure you're more important to him than I am now a days," Ellie said with a smile for the true woman in her brother's life.

Sarah smiled at her fingers, twisting in her lap, "Oh, I'd say you're still pretty much vital to him too, Ellie."

Ellie glanced at her watch and stood up, "Sorry, I need go be a doctor for a bit, you get some more sleep, okay? Devon and I will check in later on."

She sat on the spare bed, the sounds washing over her – the whir of a pump, an intermittent ping from one of the monitors, the squeak of sensible shoes on linoleum, the conversations and muted bong of the intercom from outside the door.

After a while, she got up and went to the man at the center of it all. She stood up against the railing beside him, her hands wandering of their own accord, but never quite touching him.

"Chuck? Please be okay. Come back, come back to me…."

After standing there for a few minutes, she went back to the bed, and sat, still looking at him. In her mind, she told him everything, how scared she was, how she never wanted him hurt, how she never wanted anything like this to ever happen to him. She sat silent, but part of her told him everything.

She woke up suddenly when the door opened.

"Hey, Sarah!" cried Devon, as he came in with two orderlies and another doctor, "We're just here to take the Chuckster for some more scans. Wanna come?"

She blinked, and then yawned involuntarily, "Yeah, I think I need to stretch my legs."

As Chuck was being unplugged from the wall, Devon asked, "How you going? El said she'd never seen you look so scared."

She nodded, "I'm okay now."

Chuck was wheeled out, and up to organ imaging. As they moved him from the bed to the MRI slab, Devon let her into the control booth.

The huge machine in the next room hummed, clicked and thumped as it produced virtual slices of Chuck's brain. The technician moved a model of the human brain around on the screen. Doctor Vo, the doctor who'd accompanied Devon earlier, hummed and peered at the image. She tapped away at the keyboard, and the model changed, colors and blobs moved around. Dr Vo hummed tunelessly some more.

She leaned back and smiled at Sarah and Devon, "Well, it's looking pretty normal. There is some residual swelling," she pointed at something that made no sense to Sarah at all, "We'll keep him under for the night, just to be safe, and he should be fine to be brought out of it tomorrow."

"Awesome!" announced Devon as he clapped Dr Vo on the shoulder, causing her to lurch forward, and the model on the screen spun like a top.

-o0o-

When Ellie's shift ended, she dragged Sarah home with her, over Sarah's protests. "Sweetie, I know you want to be there, but nothing's going to happen. He'll stay under until we take him off the drip. And I think you could use a good meal and some rest."

Sarah salivated, despite herself, at the thought of Ellie's cooking. "Okay…" she allowed.

"'Sides, this way I don't drink alone," Ellie smiled, "And I think we both need to get away from here."

Normally, on a school night, Ellie never had more than the one glass of wine over dinner.

It was the courage and wisdom that comes only within that third glass that asked Sarah, "I just don't get it. The pair of you are made for each other. He's aces over teacups in love with you…. 'N you! You're just as bad." Ellie waived her hand dismissively, warding off any protests, "I've seen the way you look after him….." she peered at Sarah, "So what's wrong with my brother, Sarah? You're jus' not moving forward! I mean, you still live in that apartment….. thingy of yours." She set the glass down, carefully, "He'd love it if you moved in. Me too. I mean, I could stan' having 'nother woman 'round."

Sarah seriously considered gulping the nearly full glass of red she held down in one go. This was why Sarah didn't want to be alone with Ellie. She was sharp, she could see the hole in the cover story. No-one had thought it would go this long.

She made do with a small sip, "El, Chuck's….. great. It's…. I don't know if he told you, I moved here because my last situation was… bad. He didn't hit me, or anything…"

Ellie snorted aloud at that, "Honey, I'm pretty damn sure you'd kick 'em in the, you know, if they tried that with you."

Sarah smiled for Ellie, and then realized the truth would work. She'd be skating close to the edge, Casey's damned cameras would pick it all up, but she could claim it was to keep the cover up.

She swallowed, let her real feeling rise to the surface a little and looked up at Ellie saying, "Ellie, I'm scared. I….. I never expected anyone like Chuck. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it doesn't. He's nothing like the guys I've gone out with, before. And that scares me. And then, I get scared he'll find someone else, 'cause…. 'cause I'm taking too long…."

Ellie stared hard at her, apparently sober, "Honey, that man would wait for you. No. Matter. What."

"Ellie, I'm scared… I'm not a nice person… I've…. I've done stuff…."

"Does he know?"

Sarah kept her face down, and nodded, thinking about Christmas just gone, saying in a raw tone, "He's got a pretty good idea, I think."

Without Sarah quite knowing how, Ellie was at her side, crouching down beside her at the table, her arm around Sarah's shoulder, "Honey?"

Sarah wiped her face, and looked at the sister of the man she wasn't supposed to love. Ellie continued, "Then its okay," Ellie smiled, "He loves you. If he knows and he still loves you, then its okay."

Sarah kept looking at the other woman, her eyes still smarting from tears. She was so royally screwed. She'd practically admitted on camera her love for her asset. She might be able to squeak by on this one by claiming she was maintaining cover. It would be tight, but with Casey's help, she could possibly get away with it.

She should leave. Ask for reassignment. Every time she tried to keep cover, she just dug that hole deeper.

The problem with leaving, was she would leave. Leave Chuck.

And she so desperately didn't want to do that.

She lay in his bed that night, hoping with all her heart he would be okay.

-o0o-

Chuck was taken off medication just after lunch. They kept the drip attached to keep fluids supplied, and disconnected his catheter. Sarah was grateful that the nurse gave her the option to leave at that stage.

When Ellie had dropped her off at Chuck's room shortly after eight that morning, she resisted the drive to rush to his side. She looked around, trying to see if there were any signs of…

"Casey!"

"Morning Walker, you look, well, a bit more human today," came her partner's voice from the man dressed as a janitor.

Sarah had to admit, Casey had picked a good position. Out of the traffic, good view of Chuck's door, and a good bolt hole in the cleaner's storage if Ellie or Devon came by.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Nah, me and the Limey have swapped a couple of times."

"Oh, I'd forgotten about…"

"It's okay. Barker's a good spy. But our moron is far more important. And he'll be back across the pond as soon as Bartowski's out of here. Go, get in there." The big man tilted his head at Chuck's door.

As soon as she was in his room, she checked to see if Casey had unloaded some of his cameras. She couldn't see any.

She kissed his forehead, it felt dry and cool. "You'll be _fine_, Chuck," she whispered, "the drugs will stop today, and you'll wake up. And you can come _home,_" her whisper grew hoarse.

Morgan came by at nine. "Hey Sarah, I should have known, I'll come back lat…"

"Morgan, its fine. Come in. I'll give you some privacy, I need to stretch my legs anyway."

Morgan opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, before asking, "Sarah, you okay?"

"I'll be okay."

Morgan twisted the roll of comics in his hands, "It must have been scary….." he said quietly.

Sarah patted his arm, and nodded.

As she was leaving, she heard Morgan say in that fake cheery voice people use in hospitals, "Hey Chuck, check it out, bro. Latest Dark Knight….." and then in a slightly more normal tone, she heard him say, "Dude, don't scare that woman like this. I've never seen her so….."

She closed the door, blocking the monologue.

After some atrocious coffee and about an hour, she came back, Casey was still on station, but he'd moved to another position. And cover. The world's scariest accountant was evidently taking stock of a linen closet.

"Nice mustache, Casey," she smirked. "Anything?"

"Bobsey twin number two left about ten minutes ago. At least you'll have some Superman comics to read while you wait."

"Batman," she corrected automatically, "Chuck thinks that Superman is a cheat. All that unlimited power….."

Casey didn't actually say anything, but just rolled his eyes.

She felt the need for a little dig of her own, "Okay, so maybe I've heard that discussion a few times. What was Chuck's position regarding mayonnaise based sandwiches on a desert island, again?"

"Maybe Barker can take me with him when he leaves….." Casey suggested to the ceiling tiles.

Okay, when she got to his room, she maybe read a couple of the comics. For comic books, they weren't too bad.

-o0o-

A little shy of two hours after being taken off the coma inducing drugs, Chuck stirred slightly.

Ellie and Devon had joined Sarah about thirty minutes earlier, both saying, "He should still be under for about half an hour."

The room got crowded when the nurse turned up fifteen minutes later.

Sarah took his left side, the nurse his right and Ellie/Devon stood at the foot of the bed.

"Chuck, Chuck, can you hear me?"

Sarah hated the way her voice cracked like that. Everyone else in the room thought it was adorable.

He stirred some more, and made a sound like a sigh. Either that, or he was calling on the ancient Egyptian Sun god, 'Ra.'

A smile tried to cross his face.

"Chuck, Devon and Ellie are here too," she tried to warn him not to spill too many secrets, "You fell over, hit your head, do you remember?"

His eyes cracked a smidge and he smiled again, this time in the direction of the foot of the bed.

The nurse took over, "Mister Bartowski? I just need to run some simple tests, okay? Then I'll leave you to your family." She clicked a pen light on, "follow the light please, that's good. Okay, now squeeze my fingers. Harder. Excellent. Now I need you to touch your nose…"

Chuck fell back to sleep almost the instant the nurse finished with him. She addressed Ellie and Devon, including Sarah at Ellie's sideways glance at her. "Okay, he looks fairly normal for this stage. He'll sleep a lot more than normal, but that is normal. He's still flushing the pentobarbital out of his system. Doctor Vo will want to run another MRI, and some other tests. I'm sure the pair of you know more than I do about this," she said, deferring to the two doctors. Devon gave a tight smile and Ellie continued to look like a worried sister. She addressed Sarah more like a friend than a nurse, "But it looks like he's going to be fine."

After the others left the room, Sarah didn't recall falling asleep on the spare bed.

She woke quietly when she felt someone was watching her.

Of course it was him. She was by his side without conscious thought. As she took his hand in hers, he said, "I sincerely hope we won. I'd hate to have to do that again." His voice was rough from lack of use.

She half sobbed, half laughed and squeezed his hand, "Yeah. We won. And I'd hate for you to do that again too."

The pair shared a smile, and a silent moment, not looking away from each other. He lifted his hand, and with her help, he traced the back of his finger down her face, "You okay?" he wanted to know, "You look….. Sarah, I've seen you look better."

She kept his hand to her cheek, "Just tired."

Twice during the afternoon, he fell asleep mid-sentence. Something she felt sure that Casey would have wanted to have been present for. She went to the toilet during his first impromptu nap. Barker had traded places with Casey.

"How's 'e doing?" Barker wanted to know.

Sarah bit down her instinctive reaction that he was asking this to seem to be a nice guy. The tiredness in his eyes gave away Barker's own lack of sleep, and she felt guilty about her own nap earlier. "He's…. he's out from the drugs now. He's been awake, but he's sleeping right now."

He stared at Sarah for enough time for her to feel uneasy. Then he said, again seemingly honestly, "I'm more of a 'up the guts wiv buckets a smoke*****' type. Never had an asset to develop. But I've never seen two agents more dedicated before this. So I guess 'e's pretty important."

Sarah nodded. "Thanks," she said, meaning it.

They shared a quiet afternoon. Ellie came by bearing real coffee, which Sarah fell upon gratefully. Morgan came after work, and stole half of Chuck's jello, while keeping Chuck up to date with Jeff and Lester's antics, along with Emmett's latest idiotic commandments from the mount.

Chuck fell asleep again, and Morgan left, this time in better spirits than before.

She snuck up silently beside his bed, and whispered, "Okay Harry Potter, he's gone now, you can stop faking narcolepsy."

He jerked at her first utterance, and then smiled a genuine Chuck Special for her. "First off, it was Ron, not Harry. Pay attention, we could still have a pop quiz on this, you know," he laughed at her mock horror.

Her phone beeped at that stage. With an apologetic face for him, she checked her messages. Casey had sent a file through.

"Careful what you wish for, Chuck. You said pop quiz? I've got one for you."

She opened the file, and found a sequence of innocuous photos. She held the phone out for him, saying, "Tell me what you see."

"Um, okay…. A puppy," he slid the photo, "looks like a May Day parade from the Fifties, Red square," slide, "a flower arrangement, passenger jet, the lunar rover, Dory the fish…. Sarah, please tell me these are the control images, and you have another set for me to flash on….."

Before she could say anything, he read it in her expression, "….but these are the coded images…. Aren't they? Sarah…"

God, he sounded scared. More scared that that morning on the beach, because at that stage, he couldn't know what was going to happen to him. She shook her head, and wore her agent face, the one you wear when you lie to your asset, "Its okay, Chuck. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe the images are too small…"

"And we both know I've flashed on smaller images than…."

"Chuck!" her voice sounded brittle, she breathed and sounded calmer, "It's just the first time. We'll try again, later when you're recovered, okay?"

He nodded doubtfully.

"Chuck, it's going to be fine. And the important thing is you're okay, okay?"

Again, his nod indicated doubt.

She reached out, and gave his hand a squeeze, "Look, I've got to call Casey, let him know that nothing happened, this time," she emphasized with a squeeze, "and that you're okay."

If Chuck were a suspicious person, he would have noted that Sarah left the room for longer than he felt necessary for a call of that type.

An even more suspicious and observant person might have noticed that she looked worried when she came back into the room, but if she did, it was only for an instant.

-o0o-

***Up the guts with buckets of smoke** – An infantry battle tactic devoid of subtlety, and thus, easy for the infantry commander to remember – always an important consideration. Throw smoke to obscure the battlefield, and instead of flanking, charge straight ahead. The section commander's handbook probably has a proper name, but I would be breaking my oath to The Official Secrets Act if I told you.

.

Much as I would love to, I cannot claim ownership of the phrase 'hot syrupy stack of man cakes.' Frea used it, but someone else (either BDaddyDL or MKudron) tweeted it for her first. I am genuinely both highly amused and slightly revolted by those words…

-o0o-


	2. Chapter 2

As of the June Long week-end 2012, I don't own Chuck, et al.

**Summary:** What if getting his old life back meant he would lose her. What if he didn't get a choice and he got his old life back anyway. Set second half Season 2.

-o0o-

**Chuck Gets His Life Back**

**Chapter Two**

-o0o-

Chuck was pretty sure he felt strong enough to make it to his own bed under his own steam. But Sarah had offered, so he leant on her as she helped him home.

Okay, maybe he was a little more spent than he thought. He sat on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, and he realized Sarah had kept her forehead to his.

"You okay?" she whispered. He could feel her breath on his skin.

"Yeah, just a bit more tired than I thought, I guess." Her eyes were hypnotic. There was genuine concern there. God, he could spend the rest of his life looking onto those eyes.

She'd taken time off to look after him. Which technically wasn't time off, since it was definitively in her job description. She'd closed the Orange Orange with a notice reading 'closed due to family emergency.'

And then she moved in with him. Which was almost everything he wanted, and a constant reminder of what was real and what was for the cover. Heaven and hell in one blonde haired, blued eyed, frustrating, amazing bundle.

-o0o-

Wednesday was his rostered day off. Casey came into the Buy More dressed in civilian clothes, and left his Application For Leave (annual leave) with the Ass Man, and headed over to the rear of the secret CIA spy base and entered Castle via the dock entrance. Casey had made a bet with himself, and checked the video feed from the Buy More. Sure enough, Emmett had crumpled up his leave ap with a superior sneer. A few clicks on the mainframe, a smirk and a decisive stab at the Return key, and a copy of his leave form, stamped approved, was seemingly faxed from Buy More corporate.

The look of baffled horror on Emmett's face as he tried to explain himself to Big Mike as to why he (Big Mike) was being involved with the staff in any way shape or form, was worth the little bit of effort.

"If you have quite done entertaining yourself major…" came without warning from the conference screen.

"Yes, general. Just ensuring that cover is maintained at the Buy More."

General Beckman seemingly peered out of the screen at the two agents, "Major, Agent Barker, we have a hiccup. With Mister Bartowski on the injured list for the time being, and both agents in overwatch at the…. Mister Bartowski's place of residence, we cannot leave this base open. So Castle will be mothballed until the situation resolves itself. Agent Barker, unfortunately your transfer orders have not come through as of yet."

Barker blinked at that, but said nothing. Casey glanced sideways at Barker, and almost twitched an eye.

"So, Major Casey, you will provide accommodations for Agent Barker until the orders arrive. In the mean time, you will find the instructions to place Castle into standby mode being printed now."

And then the screen went blank.

Barker stood looking at the screen for a moment before saying, "So, it's the normal drill, then. Great coats on. Great coats off." He turned to Casey and said, "Sorry 'bout the inconvenience, mate."

Casey glared at his new roommate and growled under his breath. He headed over to the printer, currently churning out most of a ream of paper.

Barker looked at the hundreds of pages, filled with instructions, numbered lists and addenda. "And further proof this is a government operation," he said.

Casey stacked the pages, and tapped them on the desk to align the edges. "Awright, might as well start." He read from the third page, the first two pages being occupied by the 'Congratulations on you wise selection of…' type of governmentese.

"Locate and isolate the junction box in sub level 3-A, identified as AA23. The tool for opening the cover to junction box S3A-AA23 may be located in the storage units, level 2, cage 17. The key to open storage unit 2-17 may be located…. Je-zus."

"Sure we can't just pull the plug from the power point?" asked Barker, "Or cut the outside lines, that way we could sneak off to the pub, an' tell 'er in five hours or so that we done it."

"This would be easier if we had Bartowski. He's good with this computer crap."

"Ahhh, but then if we had Chuck, then we wouldn't have to shut this place down, would we?" Barker said as they headed down to sub level 3-C to get the key so they could get another key.

It took the whole day. Nearly.

In the end, it wasn't quite as bad as the printed lists suggested, as half of the print-out was how to re-establish the base. But it still took them until four in the afternoon.

The pair of them were dirty and tired. Casey led Barker over to the Crown Vic, Barker carrying a duffle of clothing, Barker said, "I still think my pub idea had merit."

The pair got to Echo Park a little over half an hour later. Casey let Barker into his place, and checked the video from Casa Bartowski. When he was sure Ellie and Devon were not there, he and Barker headed over to Chuck's front door. He even knocked on the door before opening it.

"Casey? Do you want to come in?" asked Sarah as she stood, blocking the opened door.

Casey judged the room. The moron was on the couch, the TV was on, and some spaceship was frozen on the screen from when the pause button was hit. From the positioning of the moron, and the dent in the cushion beside him slowly refilling, Bartowski hadn't been alone on the couch.

Casey cleared his throat, "Awright, we need to run the official test, see if you, you know. Come on," he turned for the door, waiving his hand for them to follow.

Walker and Bartowski headed over to Casey's about a minute after Casey got inside. Casey looked at Barker and said, "I'm afraid I need to ask you to leave the room. You can wait in the spare room, we'll let you know when to come out."

Barker looked at the others, none of them expressing surprise at this. He raised his hand as a parting gesture, and headed back upstairs to the bedroom Casey had pointed at for him.

Casey set about bringing up the test on his plasma screen. The DNI logo was on the screen, along with a brief warning about unauthorized access and the penalties thereto pertaining. A helpful 'press any key to continue' icon blinking at the bottom.

Chuck sat on Casey's couch, front and centre all 'troded up and headphones ready. Before he pressed the 'any key' key, Casey said, "Chuck, we just need to be sure….. and we won't count the simple test we did over the phone, okay?"

Chuck looked at both of his handlers, asking, "What…. What if nothing happens, what if I don't flash?"

"Chuck, you've only just come out of hospital," Sarah said, "and it may work just fine," Chuck recognized that voice. She was handling him, it wasn't her real voice, not Sarah, "And if not, well, we try again, okay?"

Chuck nodded, and bracing himself slipped the headphones into place and began the test.

It didn't work.

She took him home, sat him back on the couch and squeezing his hand said, "I'll be back, just got to check with Casey and report to Beckman, okay?"

"M'kay," he mumbled. He sat there after she left, staring blindly at the image of the Colonial Marine spaceship, _Sulaco_, still frozen on the screen.

What if the Intersect was gone? What if traces of the killer sodium pentothal the team had ingested on a previous mission reacted badly with the pentobarbital that had just saved his life? What if simple concussion could stop the Intersect?

What if he never flashed again?

If you had of asked that question of Chuck Bartowski at practically any stage during the past eighteen months or so, the answer would have been a resounding, "Yippee!"

Only, as he thought about it, Chuck had found a frog in that particular bidet. No Intersect, no handlers. No handlers, no Sarah.

Chuck thought about the implications of that.

-o0o-

General Beckman looked as if she had a mouthful of bad chutney. "I don't need to tell you how bad this is. Annoying as mister Bartowski w… is, he g..ets results. Very well, we have another week to try again. If the result is the same, I see no alternative, and will deactivate this task force. Agents, you will keep me advised and we will reconvene next Wednesday."

After Beckman had disappeared from the screen, Sarah pretended to busy herself, tidying up the testing cables.

Then she asked, "Casey, what…. John, what happens if he does…. doesn't flash."

"He gets his life back."

She was quiet for a while, thinking about the implications of that.

-o0o-

She was quiet when she came back to him. Sarah was generally verbally quiet, but the woman he loved had little cues and silent signals that Chuck knew and loved. This time, her body language had shut down too.

When she sat beside him, she didn't look at him. He ran his hand up and down her back, "Sarah, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

She sat there, still, for long enough for him to begin to think about calling Casey for help. Then she said so quietly, he almost didn't hear her, "If the intersect doesn't work by next week, you get your old life back, Chuck."

"Sarah?" she didn't respond, "Sarah?" still nothing, so he moved to the coffee table to sit directly in front of her, "Sarah, I didn't have much of a life before you came along."

She nodded woodenly and pressed her palms to her eyes, after which she blinked and sniffed.

"And who knows, maybe I'll flash in a day or so….."

Again, puppet Sarah bobbled her head in an approximation of a nod.

They sat, facing each other, he studied her intently, she was studying something he couldn't see.

-o0o-

Barker stood watching the screen. The spy and her asset were silent. He looked at Casey, and asked and answered his own question, "I never stood a chance wiv 'er, did I?"

Casey remained silent.

Barker took the silence as confirmation, and judged the number of monitors and cameras. They were all of the same place, he realized.

"Um, that's an awful lot a cameras, jus' for one bloke…." Barker said.

"Yeah, about that. I've got some paperwork for you to fill out, regarding that." Casey held up a thick, official looking folder. Barker flicked through the first few pages. There was a lot of thick black lines obliterating large chunks of what he was expected to sign.

Barker looked at Casey with raised eyebrows, "What the bloody hell have I stumbled into?"

-o0o-

When Ellie came home, Sarah acted apparently normally, but Chuck could see the brittleness. She was shiny and hollow. After dinner, when Sarah went to the bathroom, Ellie rounded in on Chuck, demanding, "What have you done?"

"Ell…"

"She's all false and cheery. What did you do, Charles Irving Bartowski?"

"I hit my head," he told the dinner plates quietly, "and I think that scared her. El, please just….just give her some time."

-o0o-

By the morning, she was Sarah again. At lunch time, she took him to their beach for a picnic. They sat on the sand, munching on roast chicken, tearing at the meat with their fingers and made their faces greasy as a result. She was vigorous when she cleaned his face up afterwards. Her eyes sparkling at him, recognizing his discomfort. So she scrubbed harder.

They talked of simple here-and-now things. All talk of the past or anything beyond what was on TV that night just didn't happen.

On Friday, she took him driving. They ended up doing simple, touristy things. They bought a map of the stars homes and drove around, oohing and ahhing at fancy gates that probably belonged to drug lords, or their accountants.

He was getting stronger, and while he still tired easier than he was used to, they both recognized he was able to stay vertical longer than he had a couple of days previously.

Saturday, she took him to the movies. He picked the superhero movie.

Sunday morning they stayed in bed. He'd moved to get up, out of bed, and she'd held his hand, keeping him there. When he opened his mouth to ask a question, she pressed her index finger to his lips to silence him.

They spent the next ten minutes silently memorizing each other's features, holding hands under the sheet.

It was, in all honesty, the most romantic thing they'd ever done.

He had to know. The unknown was a black hole, gnawing at his guts. "Sarah? What happens if I don't flash?"

Sarah swallowed and then smiled for him, "You get your old life back. We," she indicated over to Casey's apartment, "get to return to our normal agencies, and…."

"Sarah…"

"Yes…. yes Chuck?"

"Are you… will…. Do you want to go?"

"Chuck, I'm still a CIA operative. They say go, I go. That's how it works."

"Even if you wanted to stay. Here," his unspoken, 'with me,' hung in the air.

"Chuck," her face flashed hurt for a moment, "what I want, doesn't matter to the national security. I signed on to do a job. I just got lucky that this particular mission turned out to be one that I love."

He blinked at that. There was a word she used just then that she was normally very careful to avoid.

"That's not quite what I asked. Do you _want_ to go?" he asked again.

"Chuck…. "

He blurted, "You could stay. You could go on missions….. and then, then you could, you could come ….. home," he finished, almost in a whisper, that last word an ache.

She lay frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. She stared into his eyes, pleading with him not to hurt her like this. To her relief, he broke the moment, and asked, "So what happens to us?"

She swallowed, blinked a few times, then smiled, sadly, for him, "We'll probably have a week or so, get you back to health, back to work, ensure you're safe, and then I fake a family emergency. You'll move on, and forget all about me."

He shook his head, slowly, never breaking eye contact with her. Neither of them mentioned the tear rolling down from her eye onto the pillow.

-o0o-

Wednesday came around again with alarming quickness. Before he knew it, he was over in front of Casey's plasma again, same electrodes, same logo on the screen.

Different pictures, but that was the only difference.

He didn't flash.

Chuck sat there, yanking the 'rodes off his face in frustration, not trusting himself to say a word. Sarah hovered nearby, ostensibly to help gather the cables up. Casey stood silently.

Beckman came on line a few moments later.

"I'm sorry team, but without the Intersect, Chuck, you are of no further use to us. And that concludes the Intersect project. Major Casey, would invite Agent Barker to join us? The rest of this will involve him, too."

Casey went up stairs to gather Barker. General Beckman looked as sorry as generals can be.

"Chuck, I thank you for your efforts, they have been appreciated. You will find payment for services rendered. Agent Walker will have you sign the final paperwork."

"General, what if we keep the team together? I could act as tech support" Chuck threw a look to Sarah, "I'd even stay in the van." He returned his attention to the general. "Or Castle. I might not be an asset for you any more, but analyst! I could be an analy….."

Sarah began, "Chuck….."

The general overrode them both, "I appreciate the offer, Mister Bartowski. But this taskforce was assembled for one purpose, to utilize the Intersect. With no intersect, no taskforce. Major Casey is NSA, and Agent Walker is on loan from the CIA."

Casey and Barker came into the room.

The general continued, "Major Casey, you will be reassigned immediately, there is a compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan that has come to our attention. I need you to ride as an observer with SEAL team Six. Originally, I'd planned on reuniting Agents Larkin and Walker, but I'm informed that Agent Larkin is in deep cover, and any changes to his mission may jeopardize the situation. Agent Barker, you have presented us with an opportunity. We have permission from London, and there is a security conference being held, believe it or not, in Tahiti. We believe this is a front for Fulcrum. You will proceed there, establish cover, and Agent Walker will join you as soon as possible…"

Chuck just stared at the image on TV. Things just kept getting better.

"….Agent Walker, you will establish that Mister Bartowski is free of security concerns and returned back into his job with minimum fuss, say three days. At which time, you will join Agent Barker in Bora Bora. Your cover will be newlyweds."

Chuck couldn't say a thing. He sat there, unable to move his eyes off the screen.

"General, it may take longer than….." began Sarah.

"Thank you agents, your travel documents will be delivered shortly. Major Casey, I know you'll like your particular assignment." The general hung up with a predatory smile.

Casey stood, looking at the other occupants of the room. After a moment, he gave Barker a nudge, saying, "I think… I think I'll need your help with the weapons locker. Got to start packing up I guess."

Barker looked confused for a moment, and then with a glance at Chuck and Sarah, who hadn't moved, he said in a louder voice than he intended, "Right! Let me help you. Least I can do, mate, for putting me up."

"Hang on," Casey muttered and headed to the small server stack in the alcove that recorded Chuck's life. He switched the stack off, and unplugged the co-ax cables, saying clearly, "Well, won't be needing these. Lock up when you leave Walker."

And then he and Barker headed to the rear of the apartment as quickly as they could.

-o0o-

She made the first move. She sat beside him, whispering, "Chuck, I'm so sorry."

Chuck seemed incapable of moving.

She repeated her whisper, "I'm so sorry."

He nodded after a moment, and then turned to face her slowly, his eyes glistening, and said quietly, "I love you. I just…. I just wanted you to know that."

Sometime later, she realized he must have gotten up, and returned home. She didn't remember him leaving.

-o0o-


	3. Chapter 3

As of 04 Jul 2012, I don't own Chuck, et al.

And a happy Independence Day to those of you from the US of A.

**AN:** I wrote a chapter in this story about Chuck in hospital being hooked up to machines going Ping! And then I ended up in hospital hooked up to several machines that pinged. Quistie64 wrote a chapter about Chuck and a bushfire, and lo! It came to pass that chunks of Colorado go up in flames.

Nick, I cannot stress how strongly I recommend that you add a new chapter to Chuck vs The Jackpot….

-o0o-

**Chuck Gets His Old Life Back**

**Chapter Three**

-o0o-

She sat there numb, completely unable to move, not feeling anything and unable to even think. She'd known how he felt. She'd known for some time. In some way, she'd always known. She just never expected it to end like this.

But then he had to go and actually say the words.

A hand was shaking her shoulder, "Walker, what the hell are you still doing h…. Oh, Christ. What did he do?"

She sat there, tears now streaming down her face. She spoke, but no words came out.

Casey crouched down, his face level with hers, and asked again, more gently this time, "What did he do? What happened, Sarah?"

"He…. He loves me. He t….. he told me…." Her voice kept drifting off into the upper registers, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Bizarrely after a moment, a smile spread across his face. "Maybe," Casey said as gently as he could, "you should go over to him, instead of sitting on my couch."

The thought clearly terrified her, "But…"

He took her hands, and dragged her up, "Come on. I can't promise you it'll be okay, but I can promise you, that if you stay here, you'll regret it for a long, long time."

Somewhat it shock, she followed him meekly across the courtyard over to Chuck's. She was operating on autopilot and didn't know it. Casey let himself into the apartment. All the lights were off. Casey knocked at Chuck's bedroom door, "Chuck, I'm opening the door. She needs to see you."

At that, Sarah realized where she was, and tried to get away. Casey opened the bedroom door, thrust her inside the room, and closed the door. Holding it closed against the rattling of the knob, "Talk, the cameras are off, so talk!" Casey yelled at the door, "or something," he muttered to himself as he headed back to his own place once the rattling of the door slowed.

-o0o-

He'd told her.

He'd told her how he felt, and she just sat there, not moving. That was probably the worst part.

He'd told her and nothing happened.

This was worse than that dream, the one where you tell her and she and everyone else just laughs…. At least in that nightmare, she reacted. He'd just told the woman he was in love with how he felt, and all she did was sit there, staring at the blank TV.

After a bit, he got up and went home. He'd never remember how he ended curled up in bed.

He was aware of a noise, and Chuck rolled over from his wallow in the bed to look at who was intruding on his grief. She was at the door, shaking the knob, trying to get back out.

He said her name, "Sarah?" and she whipped around, pinned to the door in horror, almost like that scene in that Brit clay-mation film when the ex-NASA techno trousers hiss-stomped into view.

The image of her scared was the impetus he had no idea he needed, and without conscious thought, he was on his feet, and her name on his lips again, "Sarah?" She looked worse than he felt. "What happen….."

And then she was holding him so tightly, he almost couldn't breath. Her face was buried into his neck, her wracking sobs, shaking his whole body.

He did the only thing he could. He held her tight, and rocked her slowly as he would a small child.

After a while, she was able to say, "I'm sorry Chuck. I'm so sorry."

She wouldn't let him go. And she repeated her mantra.

That as much as anything told him what he needed to know.

"Sarah? It's not your fault. Not your fault. This is part of why spies don't fall in love, isn't it?" he held her out a bit, to look at her.

She nodded, her mouth opened as if she was about to speak, but instead silence reigned and she nodded again.

"Well…. I…. We…. At least we have these few days, right? We can be real with each other for the next few day…."

She held him tightly again, and her voice worked at her third attempt, "….not fair…."

He smiled to himself, "Life _is_ pain princess. Anyone who tells you…."

She silenced him by pressing her slim, oh so kissable, index finger to his lips and saying, "You watch way too many movies, Chuck…."

He bypassed a kissable index finger and shot for gold by cupping her face and kissed her gently. "I was pretty sure you knew that already, agent Walker," he told here once her eyes opened again.

They sat on his bed, neither of them caring or even aware that it was dark out by now.

"Chuck? You offer… did you mean what you said earlier? That I could come… home?" she whispered that last word.

He nodded, not daring to breath.

She lay her head onto his shoulder, she was about to tell him that she'd never had a home, but he beat her to it.

"Home is where, when you turn up, they _have_ to take you in. Pretty sure that applies to you….."

She turned to face him, and he realized she'd never looked so vulnerable. She was so close to him, there was something that looked like hope in her eyes…..

Ellie and Devon came home before anything irrevocable happened, although in a real sense, they'd burned that bridge about ten minutes ago.

-o0o-

As Sarah had noted before, Ellie was dangerously observant. Mind you, coming home to a dark house, and having your little brother and his girlfriend emerge sheepishly, both of them looking a just a scooch blurry around the edges, blinking into the light was a bit of a clue something was different.

As soon as Sarah left the room, and she was able to, she collared her brother and demanded, "Chuck! What's going on?"

"Um…"

"Did you propose to her? Wait, ring! Do you have a ring for her? Ohmygod, ohmygod thisissoexciting…." As the words got closer together, they also went higher in pitch.

"Ellie? Breath. No, I haven't proposed to Sarah. I'm not exactly sure how I can describe what happened. Both a good thing, and a bad one, I guess…."

"…..Chuck?"

"Ell, Sarah has to go back east for a bit. Something came up. We don't know how long for…"

"What happened? When?"

"Um…."

"It's my father," announced Sarah quietly as she returned to the room, and saw her Chuck squirm on Ellie's questioning, "he went into hospital today."

Ellie asked the natural question, "Hospital, what is it?"

His eyes lit up. As soon as Chuck opened his mouth, both women turned on him at the same time, saying, "Don't!" in a threatening sort of way.

He muttered, "Surely, you can't be serious," under his breath.

Sarah sat next to Chuck, her hand resting naturally on his thigh. "Short of breath was what he said. The next thing he's hooked up to all sorts of things and they're talking ang…. Angio….?"

"Angiogram," confirmed the medically trained Bartowski. "Sounds like they think it's his heart. Devon!" she called out to the cardiologist in the family. Luckily, they had one handy.

Devon came into view, his bare chest glistening from his work out on the bike. He and Ellie were able to help Sarah.

It wasn't until two days later that Ellie realized that Sarah had distracted her. But it was too late by then, and Sarah had gone. But something between her and her brother had definitely changed.

-o0o-

Chuck and Sarah spent all the time they could together. Casey and Barker had departed that first night, and a clean-up crew emptied Casey's apartment as unobtrusively as they could.

The time came for Sarah to leave. Chuck drove her to LAX in his Nerdherder. She almost missed her flight to Tahiti because of their farewell. Chuck stayed, and watched the Jumbo get pushed back from the skywalk. By the time she took off, he was guessing which plane was hers. There was a last glimpse of the artwork on the tail that was her plane.

And that was that.

Chuck stayed at the glass wall for some time. Planes took off, some of them to other exotic climes, and different planes, some of them from Cleveland, came in and landed, Chuck wasn't really paying attention.

After a while, he went home.

-o0o-

The next day he went to work. Work sucked way more than he remembered it ever sucking before.

He even missed Casey.

But it was worse for how much he missed her. It hurt. It hurt like some stupid teen fan fiction story, or a 'the dog just up and died, and my wife just ran off taking my best friend and last cigarette with her' type of country music song, missing Sarah _hurt_.

Day two was worse.

That was also the night Tahiti featured in the evening news. An explosion at a resort, four dead and dozens injured, some critical. It was hard to tell, but one of the injured looked like it was Cole Barker.

Sarah's phone number kept telling him it was disconnected. She was supposed to have contacted him once she was on site with a suitable burner cell.

There was nothing he could do, no one he could talk to or call. While the news was on, Ellie decided that an explosion in Tahiti, sad as it was, didn't rate over discussing with Chuck what was happening with Sarah.

He had to tell her the partial truth, that he'd had no contact, and he was worried.

Ellie told him Sarah was probably caught up with her father and not to worry, she'd call when she could. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even have a fake hospital to ring up. Or even a fake city Sarah had gone to. Neither of them had planned that far ahead. She was supposed to call him.

He stayed up, and watched the repeat news later that night, but there was nothing conclusive. He didn't even know what cover names Cole and Sarah had been traveling under.

So that meant he couldn't call the information hot line to find out if a friend or relative had been killed or injured. I'm sorry, Cole and Sarah Who? And your name is? What relationship did you say you had with Mister and Mrs. Whatever their names were?

Would the CIA or NSA help him? Doubtful.

How much was a flight to Tahiti? It didn't matter, Beckman's check hadn't cleared yet, so even if cost a dollar to get to Bora Bora, Chuck'd have trouble flying as far as the corner.

Chuck looked up the explosion on a news website, and found a link for the dead and injured. No names stood out as being likely.

But that was kinda the point with cover names. Carmichael was probably as exotic as the CIA ever got with fake names.

He weakened, and rang the CIA. Have you ever had the run-around ringing up a government department, or at least a bank or cell phone provider (essentially the same experience)? Try asking the CIA about an undercover agent currently on a mission, undercover in Tahiti. Especially when you, yourself, used to be so secret that the entire project based around you didn't even used your name or cover name.

About the only good thing that came from that, was that the unmarked black helicopters didn't land in the street outside. No tactical teams knocked gently on the front door, and no predator drones strafed the house. All of which they had plenty of time to do, since ringing the CIA and asking about an undercover agent currently on a mission, undercover in Tahiti took a surprising amount of time, even when you took into consideration the fact you were actually calling the CIA regarding an undercover agent currently on a mission, undercover in Tahiti.

Which meant that, either the name Bartowski was so sacrosanct, he couldn't get arrested, or they thought he was a complete and total waste of time. Chuck rather suspected the latter.

It was just after four in the morning when he went to bed.

If work sucked previously, then with about two hours sleep under his belt, and sick with worry about Sarah, work sucked to a level that would normally necessitate a belt driven crawdad pump.

So, when Chuck went home shortly after eleven in the morning, Emmett's threatening to have him fired for abandonment of his position lead Chuck to just stare fixedly at Emmett and say one word, "Please."

Then he went home.

-o0o-

When he got home, Chuck didn't know what to do. He was exhausted, and knew he needed sleep. But there was no way he could sleep, not while she might be hurt.

Having been a part of a covert, joint CIA/NSA black ops team for a year and a half had had its advantages. One of which was, both secretive government agencies had somewhat foolishly let him have access to their computer networks.

Never before in the course of human affairs, had a Nerd Herdling had so much computer power. All he needed now was a secret island base in the South Pacific. Being a good computer nerd, one of his first actions back then had been to ensure he had a back-door into the system(s). That was just Nerd Herding 101.

So he was able to access the video of the airport arrivals in Tahiti. He watched the love of his life, still in the same clothes he'd last seen her in, move through the airport, to be met by Barker.

The way she smiled at Barker left a hollow feeling in his guts.

He stopped that playback, and then hunted for the explosion.

It was obvious they knew they'd been made. The ATM camera from across the road showed Sarah and Barker enter the restaurant, both watching further down the street. Witnesses reported that a man fitting Barker's description tried to get the patrons to safety before the explosion. It was curious to note that the source of the explosion was near the entrance, rather than the kitchens. An odd place for a gas leak.

Winding the video further back, he picked a couple of likely suspects who went into the restaurant with a bag, but left soon after without one. It took over thirty minutes for Chuck to locate clearer images of their faces, taken from the lobby of the same resort hotel Sarah was staying in.

Then he realized he'd been going ass-backwards. What was the point of having access to the CIA and NSA's servers and only using them to look at America's Funniest Home Injuries videos. Surely there were secret reports he could look up.

Indeed, there were. And Chuck had found clearer images of the suspects than anyone else had. Chuck made sure hard copies of the counter agent's photos landed on the desks of all listed in the distribution field of the report into the operation.

But at that stage, the trail ran cold. It had been Barker on the gurney he'd seen being fed into the back of an ambulance.

There was no report of a female casualty fitting Sarah's description. And Barker had discharged himself against medical advise.

And with that, he disappeared. Of Sarah Walker, there was no sign. How does a beautiful blonde haired blue eyed, almost six foot tall woman disappear on an island?

-o0o-

It took a week. Chuck was able to instigate a joint Tahitian and Kiwi customs operation that was able to capture the two counter agents on a charge of possession of explosives. Once in New Zealand custody, Chuck was able to make sure that an outstanding US warrant was waiting so that extradition could begin. An NSA agent matching and using the identification of Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens (imagine Michael Biehn from the Aliens or Abyss films in a cowboy hat) took the two counter agents back to the states.

During that week, Chuck gave up on the Buy More and pretty much all life beyond his bedroom as he used his computer to finesse world events.

He told Ellie he was spending his time trying to find Sarah. When Ellie suggested going to the police to file a missing persons report, Chuck explained to his sister about Sarah's father, his life style choice and habit of changing names like, and roughly the same frequency as, his shirts.

-o0o-

He didn't find her. He did find out what happened to her on Tuesday.

There was a man in courtyard. Dark suit, sunglasses, that stance that told you he was watching everything. The bulge in the jacket that said 'concealed weapon.'

Seriously, all he needed was a hearing aid and a sign that said CIA.

Then someone knocked at the door. A little reluctantly, Chuck opened the door. There was an older man that Chuck recognized from his CIA file.

Mavin, the new deputy director of the CIA. He'd been in place since Grahame's death, but the Intersect Team had only dealt with Beckman since the explosion.

Technically he was Sarah's boss. And Chuck had been sort of hacking around in his computer.

"Mister Bartowski." Mavin held out his hand for a handshake. The way he said Chuck's name, it wasn't a question.

"Director Mavin. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"May I come in? Thank you. While we have never met, I know a bit about you, mister Bartowski."

"Well, I guess the project landed on you desk, once in a….."

"You are in love with Sarah Walker, correct?" asked D.D. Mavin, cutting Chuck off.

Chuck stood there in the living room, "I….. I….. Yes." Chuck admitted, "I fell in love with Sarah some time back."

"It shows. It showed back when the project was still live."

There didn't seem to be much to say to that, so Chuck just kept quiet.

"Mister Bartowski, let me come to the point. In an effort to find Agent Walker, you accessed our computer system. The NSA's too, but I don't give a shit about them. You were able to locate and facilitate the arrest and subsequent interrogation of two counter agents, enemies of the republic."

Chuck stood there. This wasn't quite what he expected. If they were going to arrest him, bunkerize him, then why the 'evil overlord monologue?'

"That was good work. How would you like to do stuff like that for a job?"

"Huh?"

"I'm offering you a job, Chuck. One you're good at. Very good, as it turns out. Might not be what a Stanford grad could earn, but it's got to pay better than the Buy More."

"Uh…."

"Think about it. You would get some semblance of your life back. In the mean time, I think you should talk this over with someone else, first."

Deputy Director Mavin walked out the door, saying, "Enjoy the rest of your life, Chuck. Whatever you decide."

And then she was at the door.

She asked his name, almost hesitantly.

Chuck Bartowski proved that Sarah Walker was 'home.' He took her in.

Questions could wait until later. Simply holding each other was far more important right now.

-o0o-


End file.
